


Now? You clean

by isklar



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Confused Jesse, Deadlock McCree, Eventual Romance, Genji is a lil shit, Haha I had to up the rating, Hanzo also has a jealous streak, Hanzo doesn't want to put up with this shit, Jesse just want out of this shit, M/M, Mchanzo is the main pairing, Might have to up the rating later, Romance, Servant Jesse, Shimada Dad is scary, Slow Burn, Will probably have to add tags as I go, Young Genji Shimada, Young Hanzo Shimada, Young Jesse McCree, but there will also be traces of McGenji, idk man, poorly written smut because I'm new to it, who knew
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-22
Updated: 2016-10-13
Packaged: 2018-08-16 18:07:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 17,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8112208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/isklar/pseuds/isklar
Summary: When Johnson had asked if he wanted to go to Japan, this was not how Jesse had imagined it would be. Somehow, he had imagined an okay flight, a decent hotel with a comfortable bed, awesome food, and a lot of sightseeing. But as it turned out, "do you want to go to Japan", meant in reality: "do you want to be part of this arms deal between the Deadlock and the most dangerous and most influential yakuza family in Japan?"ORDeadlock Jesse ends up as a servant in the Shimada household, and Hanzo doesn't have time for annoying Americans (but Genji does.)





	1. i

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't know how this idea came to mind, but at least it's put down into writing so perhaps it'll stop annoying me now and let me carry on
> 
> As far as I've planned, this is not going to be a very angsty fic, but the rating might bump up to Mature later (because we all know that young Genji is not a pg-13 kind of person).

When Johnson had asked if he wanted to go to Japan, this was not how Jesse had imagined it would be. Somehow, he had imagined an okay flight, a decent hotel with a comfortable bed, awesome food, and a lot of sightseeing. But as it turned out, _do you want to go to Japan_ , meant in reality: _do you want to be part of this arms deal between the Deadlock and the most dangerous and most influential yakuza family in Japan?_ And honestly, Jesse wouldn’t have minded that - not in the slightest. Nor would he have minded the cheapest and worst seats at the flight (nor the godawful flight schedule). And he would have understood that they didn’t have time for sightseeing, decent hotels or even a lot of food.

His issues began to manifest shortly after they had met with the yakuza boss himself - a stern looking man in his late fifties, surrounded by a lot of men in black suits - and Johnson had (after an hour or so of discussing a deal) jovially squeezed Jesse’s shoulder as he offered the younger man as… oh how had he put it again… _a guarantee of Deadlock’s seriousness in the matter._ Yeah, that was it.

At first Jesse hadn’t believed what he had heard, but now it made perfect sense why they had gone straight to the Shimada castle instead of checking in at the hotel first. Johnson hadn’t wanted to explain that he had only booked one room.

Now that he was alone in the simple and not-decorated room however, it was starting to make sense. The Deadlock gang didn’t have much of a reputation in Japan (even though the big Shimada cheese had certainly managed to dig up information here and there about the gang before the two representatives arrived), and so Johnson wanted to leave a good impression. By leaving Jesse in their care, it meant the gang would have to behave and honour the agreement - and if they didn’t, the Shimada boss was free to punish Jesse as he saw fit.

 _Collateral_ , that’s what he was.

Jesse didn’t have to like it (and he didn’t, nope) but he could understand. It wasn’t like he believed the gang would mess up this deal anyway - they needed the money badly, and by allying themselves with the Shimada yakuza, it meant they had a foothold in Japan. Maybe later they could expand to other interested parties - and it certainly helped if they had the most influential crime syndicate to back up their reputation.

So all in all, this was fine.

But Jesse was far from _happy_.

If Johnson could have told him of the plan beforehand, that would have been swell. Jesse might have even attempted to learn a bit of Japanese too, but since he had genuinely thought this was a non-business trip (which, in hindsight, was pretty stupid of him to do. Of course no one would simply book a flight to Japan just for fun when their economical situation was suffering so) he hadn’t really bothered to look further than _hello_.

Jesse takes his hat off and runs a calloused hand through his hair. By now he’s getting pretty tired. The flight hadn’t been that great, and going from one timezone to another one that was fifteen hours or so ahead of him made him feel a little wonky. Nothing a good smoke couldn’t fix, but he had more or less been told to enter this room by the Shimada kingpin after having accepted the Deadlock collateral… soooo something tells him it wouldn’t be a good idea to wander about. Even though he would _really_ like a smoke.

Instead, he puts the hat back onto his unruly hair before leaning casually against one of the walls. He has no idea what this room is being used for, but it’s completely empty and rather small. Only one door and no windows - which made sense considering they were more or less pretty deep inside the castle. Through the shoji door he can see the outline of a bodyguard, no doubts being silently told to ensure Jesse didn’t attempt to get out.

Why would he even attempt to get out in the first place. Jesse was maybe a little slow on the uptake, but he wasn’t downright stupid. Crashing out of the room and running around in the Shimada castle like a headless chicken would just be plain idiotic. A part of him wants to cross the (seemingly fragile floor - seriously, what’s wrong with good old fashioned, sturdy, wooden floors?) and press his ear to the thin door and try to listen… and just as he makes his mind to give in to his curiosity, the door suddenly slides open.

The suited bodyguard gives him a passive look before giving a jerk of his head, having clearly been told to get Jesse out of there and back into the main room.

Jesse fidgets a little before walking out, and briefly looks at the bodyguard as he holds his hand out, seemingly wanting the American to move to the centre of the main room. It’s what he had in mind anyway, as it would put him in front of the large desk where the Shimada kingpin was seated. Johnson is nowhere to be seen, but a new presence by the Shimada boss’ side makes Jesse more curious than nervous.

A young man with sharp features and long, dark hair. His eyes reminds Jesse of the skies of a thunderstorm, both in colour and sensation. It didn’t take long before he realises this young man is the son of the Shimada boss, the similarity between the two was slightly eerie.

“Your partner left a minute ago.” The news doesn’t surprise him at all. Thanks a lot, Johnson. Jesse was going to give him a piece of his mind the moment he was back on American soil. (He refuses to think _if_ ).

Shimada boss’ English has barely an accent to it though, indicating that this was a man that was used to international business. “You will be staying here for the time being.” The voice is rich and deep, commanding and uncompromising, and Jesse almost wants to shy away a little. Instead, he takes hold of the brim of his hat between thumb and index finger, and gives a small tug. “Mighty kind of you, Sir.”

Though he knows kindness has nothing to do with this.

The Shimada kingpin turns briefly to his son and speaks in Japanese, leaving Jesse feeling slightly awkward, but not ten seconds later does the Shimada son get up. The young man gives his father a polite bow before moving around the table and simply continues across the floor towards the exit. Jesse blinks. “My son will show you around, mr. McCree. I advise you follow him and pay attention to his words.” The unspoken _or else_ hangs uncomfortably in the air.

Jesse blinks again before attempting his best bow before he turns around and moves quickly to catch up with the young Shimada. Right now he would gladly take his leave from the uncomfortable presence of the Shimada kingpin.

He didn’t have to go far though, just outside the main room and then he spotted long dark hair not too far from him. After having caught up with him (having decided to be at least three steps behind him however), Jesse begins to look around as they walk. It is an impressive establishment, and it seemed to mix traditional Japanese architecture with modern interior very nicely. Maybe Jesse would be given a nice room and then time for himself to look around a bit more (and get a smoke, god damn it) - because it didn’t really seem like the Shimada son had any intentions of slowing down, or even showing him the sights.

It’s not until after they’ve crossed a pair of impressive doors (open, of course, to let in the sweet summer air) leading out to an even more impressive garden - to which Jesse only caught a glimpse of, mind you, he begins to get a little annoyed. He wouldn’t have minded pausing for five seconds to peer outside. If Shimada Son had different things to tend to, fine, but at least give Jesse a few seconds to take in his surroundings.

“Hey, listen-”

“Do not speak to me.”

The way he’s so abruptly cut off, and the rude tone of voice, takes Jesse by surprise. But it also tells him that Shimada Son has absolutely no intentions of dealing with him whatsoever, let alone showing him around.

“Gee, I was jus’ gonna ask you a question.”

“I am not here to humour you.”

Wow. Someone woke up on the wrong side of… whatever the Japanese called beds.

But hey, at least Shimada Son had a nice voice. His accent was more prominent however, but his English is a lot better compared to the taxi driver that drove him and Johnson from the airport to the centre of Hanamura.

“Are you always this accommodating?” It’s meant as a joke, Jesse swears, and it’s not until the last syllable has left his lips he realises it’s perhaps not the smartest thing to get on Shimada Son’s bad side. Said Son looks briefly over his shoulder, a long dark strand briefly obscuring his eyes, but then Jesse catches a glimpse of dark grey irises as Shimada Son’s movement momentum causes the hair to move out of the way.

The look in them almost makes Jesse stumble in his own feet, and it’s perhaps for the best that the eyecontact lasts but a second before Shimada Son looks ahead once more. Oh those eyes clearly revealed a beyond furious mood alright, but they were still breathtakingly beautiful. Jesse tempted to stop and pull the man around so that he can get a better look - but he manages to control himself.

His question remains unanswered. It would seem his _guide_ had absolutely no intentions of showing him around then, and if anything it seems like he has one very specific location in mind - judging by the way he was firmly making his way through the labyrinth of corridors. Had Jesse actually paid attention, he would have noticed that they had entered a section of the Shimada castle that was less grandiose.

But Jesse was far too preoccupied with those eyes. Those deep grey eyes… he’s pretty certain that if he waited long enough, lighting could zig zag around the pupils, just like in a real thunderstorm.

Actually, Jesse almost walks right into Grey Eyes as the young man comes to a halt not too far from a bowing woman. She’s dressed in modest clothes, and while her appearance is plain she still has attractive features. If she didn’t look like she was pushing late thirties (possibly early forties) Jesse might have made a move on her.

The woman and Shimada son converses briefly, her voice mild and gentle to his sharp and commanding, before eventually the young man turns around, walks around Jesse and proceeds to leave the same way they arrived.

“Hey, wait just a second!” He calls after Grey Eyes, not really understanding what the hell is happening right now, but as he turns around to follow him, the woman grabs hold of his elbow and forces him to stay. “Young master is busy,” she says in a very accented English. Jesse just blinks at her, now more confused than ever. “Well, yeah, but I doubt I’m gonna find my way back without him.”

She smiles at him then, and for a moment Jesse feels like a stubborn child facing his very patient ma. It’s somewhat concerning and there’s a hint of sympathy and amusement in her brown eyes. Just before he’s about to remind her that he’s a twenty year old _adult_ man, she introduces herself as Orikasa Yuka, and instructs him to follow her as she turns around and moves down the hallway - opposite of which Grey Eyes had left. Jesse makes a small face and tucks his hands into the pockets of his trousers, and follows her.

Clearly he had just been dumped on someone else. Man, was his company so bad that Grey Eyes didn’t even want to give him twenty minutes of his time? Even the kingpin had told him that his son was going to show him around… he had even told Jesse to pay attention to what he said. Well at least that had been an easy task, considering that Grey Eyes had given him around twelve words.

Jesse is lead into a modest room. There are three shelves running along three of the four walls, and clothes are neatly stacked on all the shelves. The woman briefly looks Jesse up and down before crossing the floor and begins to pull out clothes, each article from a different set of piles. It makes the American frown a little, and just before he’s about to ask what she’s doing, she moves to stand in front of him.

“Uh,” he begins eloquently. Yuka holds the bundle of clothes close to him, fully expecting him to take it. “Not sure what you’re thinkin’, but don’t cha think my clothes are good enough?”

Her brown eyes gets a disapproving look in them, as if she was looking at a misbehaving child, and she moves to balance the bundle on one arm. “Not good for cleaning,” she says, and reaches out with her free hand in order to tug lightly on his jacket.

“Cleanin’?” he raises an eyebrow, still refusing to take the clothes. “I’m not sure what’s goin’ on here, but I’m pretty sure I’m not supposed to be _cleanin_ ’”

Yuka’s expression morphs into one of those condescending ones (funny how they were the same regardless of culture and nationality), and she more or less shoves the bundle of clothes into his chest. It forces Jesse to take a step back to maintain his balance, as well as automatically reach up and take hold of the clothes as she pulls away.

“That was before. Now? You clean.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Idk, I tried \\_(ツ)_/
> 
> I apologise for grammatical errors or weirdly worded sentences, this work is unbeta'd but "proofread" several times by yours truly.


	2. ii

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to all the lovely people that left kudos, and a special thank you for all of you that left a comment. I didn't expect so much love (⁄ ⁄•⁄ω⁄•⁄ ⁄)⁄
> 
> I truly hope this chapter lives up to your expectations (〃ω〃)

Realisation had slowly dawned on him. He wasn’t a guest, oh no, it would either seem like the Shimada boss was testing Jesse to see if this humiliating gesture would cause him to snap (and his body would probably have been sent in a bag back to the States) or this was genuinely how collaterals were treated in the Shimada yakuza.

Well all things considered, it could have been a lot worse. And, well… let’s face it, it could have been a whole lot better too. Being put as a servant wasn’t really on Jesse’s top ten things to do in Japan after all. Yuka had been nice enough to him though, she had taken him to a room that was supposed to be his during his “visit” (it was ridiculously bare; a bed, a desk, a chair and a closet), before having taken him to what was apparently the communal showers.

It seems like the on-site onsen was reserved for Shimada family and VIPs only.

Regardless, it had felt nice to take a shower - even though it had been with four other male servants (who all avoided looking at him). Actually, Jesse was just really glad the showers were working… and that everything was so _clean_. God knew it wasn’t like this back with the gang, where the pipes would be frequently clogged by dust (that would turn into mud) or a few of the exposed pipes would simply rust and fall down into the gorge. (And then it was the state of the showers themselves, which was an entirely different chapter).

When Jesse had returned to the dressing part of the showers however, he realised that his deadlock attire was gone. Including his hat. It had immediately caused a knot to form in his stomach. Everything could be replaced, and it wasn’t like he was carrying anything suspicious (the bodyguards had very thoroughly frisked Jesse and Johnson when they arrived, and they had made them surrender pretty much everything except their clothes) but his hat was of very dear and sentimental value.

Instead, he was left with the very simple and drab attire Yuka had gotten for him, and he reluctantly puts it on. At least it’s not uncomfortable to wear, but he couldn’t help but to feel like he was slowly losing his identity. With all the similar, drab attire, how did people distinguish themselves?

But at least he had been relieved and pleasantly surprised when he found his Deadlock clothes neatly folded in the closet in his room - with his hat resting on top of the pile. Maybe Yuka had put them there, which was nice of her, he guessed. Jesse had then more or less fallen asleep on the hard bed after that, but had made sure to put his hat on the desk next to him. Just because he was now part of the flock didn’t mean he was going to lose his individual identity.

It feels like he has slept way too little and way too much at the same time when knocks on his door pulls him out of his sleep. For a moment Jesse wants to just turn around and ignore it - whatever bastard it was that wanted him at this hour could get someone else, please and thank you. But the knocking doesn’t stop. It persists for two minutes before he hears the door being slid open.

“It is morning.” Yuka doesn’t sound too amused.

Jesse feels the flicker of rebelliousness, and he’s petty enough to take a gleeful pleasure in how he hears Yuka huff indignantly when he doesn’t respond. Jesse simply continues laying on his side, the thin blanket crumpled between his legs and arms - though he’s pretty certain the pillow must have fallen down at the floor sometime during the night, because it feels like he’s resting on the mattress.

“Breakfast now, work later.” She continues, and when she doesn’t get an answer, Jesse hears her step closer. For a moment he believes that she’s going to take the blanket from him (not that it would matter anyway, it wasn’t like he was using it when it was already so hot in Hanamura), but his eyes immediately opens when he feels hands on his person. In one moment he’s staring at the wall, and in the next, he’s staring up at the ceiling… from the floor.

If Yuka was bothered by the fact that Jesse was only in his underwear, she didn’t show it. She just gives him a small, amused smile as the American grunts and huffs as he slowly gets up from the floor. He can’t _believe_ that she had actually pulled him out of bed.

“Breakfast now, work later.” She repeats, her tone a little lighter now.

“Yeah, yeah, I heard you.” Jesse grumbles. “Just gimme five minutes to dress m’self.”

She gives him a warning look, one that promises that she’ll be back in five minutes, before leaving. Jesse rubs his eyes then, and tells himself that he’s not going anywhere with Johnson again. But as much as he wants to sit and plot his revenge on the man, he knows he has to get up and get dressed - the promise of breakfast was good enough of a motivation.

Turns out it wasn’t anything like what he imagined. Whoever was in charge of the communal breakfast in the large common room, had seemingly no idea what _food_ was. It almost felt like the _chefs_ had simply been explained what food is by a second party, and then they tried their best to recreate it based on memory alone. Needless to say, Jesse is miserable. Sure, food hadn’t always been the best back home either - but at least he had had the company of his friends. Hardly anyone spoke as they ate, and if they did it was entirely in japanese. It makes him feel very lonely and isolated, even with Yuka next to him.

And he didn’t even have his hat, god damn it.

After the abysmal start of the day, Yuka had lead him outside to a magnificent garden. There, she had given him an old, worn broom and motioned for him to dust the intricate and very long, and winding, stone path that lead from the entrance to an ornate shrine all across the garden. Again, the realisation of him being a servant dawns on him. But Yuka had left him then, and for the first time he realised he actually had time to himself.

Yes, he has to somehow clear this ridiculously long path of dust and gravel, but he didn’t have anyone looking over his shoulder. Needless to say, the first thing he does is to pull out his cigarette case and light a smoke. The nicotine feels like an angel’s kiss mixed with unicorn tears, and he feels himself relax for the first time that day.

Surely Johnson was on his way back to the gang by now, so maybe Jesse would be freed in a few days time… until then he could probably play a servant. Maybe. Hopefully.

It doesn’t take long before he realises that other servants, dressed in more durable clothes (gardeners, he realises) begins to frown at him. Apparently they didn’t approve of the slacking American. A young woman eyes him more curiously however and Jesse offers her a bright smile (and he raises his hand to tip his hat, only to realise it’s still in his room) and the woman smiles bashfully before looking away. Cute, that one.

Eventually however, Jesse drops the cigarette butt down to the ground and steps on it in order to properly kill the embers, before starting to sweep the path.

He doesn’t even get one third of the way before he has to stop, his muscles burning and his back killing him. Jesse looks with despair at the rest of the path, not understanding how _one_ person was supposed to sweep the entire path alone. A good thing was that the path itself wasn’t that dirty, just a bit dusty, which meant servants either frequently swept the flat stones, or this wasn’t a fairly used path. Another good thing was that it allowed Jesse to actually get a good look of the magnificent garden. The nice weather only accentuates the myriad of blooming flowers, and Jesse is reminded of a gigantic, colourful tapestry. He wasn’t usually one for plants and such (there were precious few back home) but this was amazing.

Eventually he continues however. He gets another third chunk done before he stops, now having arrived at a different section of the garden. There are more trees than flowers here, but still just as breathtaking. Being a yakuza kingpin sure had its perks. The sounds of footsteps behind him catches his attention however, and he partially expects Yuka to approach him with disapproving eyes (and probably tell him something like how a proper servant would have long since finished now) but it’s not her.

It’s a gardener, judging by his outfit, and he’s holding a simple mug with water. Jesse blinks for a moment, somewhat confused, but takes the mug as it’s handed to him. The young man smiles and looks briefly away, he couldn’t possibly be more than a few years older than himself, and Jesse has a sneaking suspicion that it wasn’t common practice to bring water to a fellow servant. Still, Jesse gives him a lopsided smirk. “Thank you kindly, partner.” The man doesn’t understand him, that much is obvious, but he lights up when Jesse drinks the water.

Man, that was some good shit right there. Did the Shimada have access to naturally purified glacier water or something.

The man’s hands lingers briefly over Jesse’s as the American hands him the mug, and for a moment Jesse is tempted to drag the gardener into the small forest of pretty trees. Maybe they could find the lovely young woman that had smiled so bashfully at him earlier too. But alas. The moment passes and the Japanese man turns around and hurries back the way he came. Jesse’s eyes lingers on the retreating gardener before he pulls himself together. Sleeping around with people would surely get him in trouble.

Maaaan.

By the time Jesse reaches the shrine however, he’s sweaty and tired, but oddly pleased with himself. It wasn’t the most difficult task to perform, this sweeping, and he wonders in the back of his mind if this was Yuka’s version of being nice.

Either way, as he lights another cigarette, his eyes falls on a man standing next to the entrance of the shrine. The man is dressed in a crisp yet modest suit; black trousers, white shirt and black vest - even with cufflinks too. For a moment Jesse wonders what the hell the man is doing here, but as his eyes wanders into the shrine itself, he spots the back of Grey Eyes.

The young Shimada was sitting on his knees in the centre of the shrine, long hair reaching to the back of his shoulders and tied in a loose tail. The clothes gives him away immediately. Jesse doesn’t say a word, even though he sure as hell wants to, and simply lets his eyes wander to the wall Grey Eyes is facing. It’s covered with unfolded scrolls, all various lengths, from top to bottom, japanese characters filling every cm of the papers. In the centre is a framed picture of a woman however, but Jesse isn’t close enough to get a good view of who it could possibly be.

Suddenly there’s a large suit clad man standing in the entrance, making Jesse yelp with surprise and take a step back - even though there were at least six metres between himself and the man. _Bodyguard_ , his mind tells him. Just before the bodyguard is about to close the doors however, Grey Eyes speaks to him in Japanese. The bodyguard pauses for a moment, his eyes quickly looking Jesse up and down (noticing the attire and broom) before he steps away and gives the Shimada a deep bow.

Jesse has half a mind to casually take his leave, but he pauses when he notices Grey Eyes getting up. The simple action is performed with such grace (and straight back, no less) that Jesse can’t help but to stare. When Jesse rose to his feet from the floor, he had all the grace of a drunk cow.

“I did not know your duties included staring.”

Grey Eyes’ voice pulls him out of his thoughts and back to the present, and he realises that the Shimada is now facing him. There’s but a brief gleam of amusement in them before it yields to indifference.

“Figured I had earnt a break now that I’m done with this freakin’ path.” Jesse responds with a lopsided smirk. It would seem the young Shimada was in a better mood today. He takes a last drag of his cigarette before tossing the butt to the ground, and grinds it into the dirt with his heel.

The bodyguard steps out of the shrine and descends the few stairs before Grey Eyes can, and it’s not long before Jesse is pushed back a little by the large Japanese man. Apparently Jesse wasn’t trusted near the Shimada son when they were so far from the main house. Jesse frowns a little but knows better than to resist, and so he simply takes a few steps back in order to clear his personal space. The bodyguard seems pleased with that. Or well, as pleased as a bodyguard can be.

Grey Eyes descends the stairs and calmly walks past Jesse and the bodyguard, seemingly having all the time in the world. After a few metres however, he stops and briefly turns his head to look at Jesse. “If you think you are finished with the path, think again.” There’s a gleam of schadenfreude in the grey eyes now. Jesse just blinks, now a little confused, but the Shimada son simply continues walking. The fancy vest man and the bodyguard quickly moves to follow him.

What did he mean? He wasn’t finished with the path? Jesse looks down at said path and can’t really find anything wrong with it… though just as he slings the broom over his shoulder and intends to walk back to the house, he sees Yuka approaching him. She doesn’t look too pleased.

Well fuck.

Turns out he hadn’t swept the path properly and Yuka makes him sweep the whole fucking thing all over again. It’s not until he has reached halfway he finally runs out of curses for the annoying woman.

By the time he reaches the shrine for a second time, the sun is already setting and he’s _starving_ . A part of him also can’t believe that he just spend the _entire_ day sweeping a stupid path. His arms are going to be so sore tomorrow, his legs are going to kill him, and his back is going to make him feel like he aged sixty years.

He’s all alone in the garden when he reaches the house again. Yuka is standing on the small porch, waiting patiently for him to return, before he tells him to go clean up. Honestly, Jesse really wants to tell the woman to please go put the broom up where the sun don’t shine - but he’s too tired to protest. Yuka finds him a new set of clothes, shows him where to deposit the dirty laundry, before shooing him into the direction of the showers.

She didn’t even comment on his sweeping.

Ten minutes later he’s squeaky clean, and he almost walks right into two people wearing the same black vest attire as the man outside the shrine. They frown at him but doesn’t say anything before they continue walking. Before Jesse can flip them off (because it was obviously their fault), Yuka is there to pull him into the common room. By now he’s getting rather tired of being manhandled.

“Those people, with the vests, who are they?” He asks to distract himself. Starting yelling and screaming like a tired child wasn’t going to do him any favours.

“Servants.” Yuka replies as she continues to tug Jesse through the common room. People are sitting and eating, he notices. Right now he wouldn’t even mind the awful food, he’s too hungry and tired to be picky.

“Well yeah, but why are they dressed like that?”

“They are seen.”

Her response doesn’t make much sense, and Jesse raises an eyebrow. “And I’m just invisible?” The question is loaded with sarcasm.

“Yes.”

Okay, not sure what he expected. It would seem like Yuka notices his confusion however, because she slows down and gives him a brief look.

“They are seen. They are in the hallways, in rooms. They are around Shimada-sama.” She attempts to explain. “You are not. You are _here_ but not seen.”

The meaning of her words dawns on him after a few really confusing seconds. The servants attending to the yakuza family and the guests and VIPs were to dress nicely because they were around the important people all the time. The servants required to do the backstage dirty work were supposed to blend in with the surroundings and be invisible - almost making it seem like the estate was kept in a pristine and immaculate condition on its own.

“Huh.” Is all Jesse offers. Shortly after, they get their share of… _whatever_ food this was supposed to resemble and goes to find a seat. However Jesse has barely taken a bite before a vest-wearing servant pauses by Yuka’s side. The older man gives a small bow and speaks to Yuka in rapid Japanese, occasionally gesturing to Jesse. After a moment or so she nods, and turns her attention to the American. “You must leave. You are being called.”

“What?”

“Leave now, with him.” She gestured to Fancy Servant.

“Who has called me?”

“You will see.”

Jesse makes a face. For the love of god, why was it so difficult for him to catch a break. The American glares at Fancy Servant before he gets up from his seat, and moves to follow him. His stomach is growling and gnawing on itself as he’s lead out of the servants’ area and into the main house, and suddenly he wonders if it’s the kingpin himself that has summoned him. Maybe the boss was going to tell him that the deal was finally sealed and that Jesse could go home. But Jesse quickly extinguishes the spark of hope. It was too soon, way too soon. Johnson wasn’t even home yet.

The private section of the castle is gorgeous however. There are paintings on the walls, magnificent statues, not to mention the windows that provided splendid views of the grounds outside. The need for a smoke suddenly manifests, and he gives the outside a longing look as they pass yet another window.

Jesse is lead into a section of the castle he hasn’t been in yet (not that he had been everywhere so far, mind you), before Fancy Servant stops outside a shoji that has a bodyguard guarding it. The bodyguard gives Jesse a look over before gently sliding the door open and nods for Jesse to step inside.

The scent of delicious food is what ultimately makes him step inside, and his eyes finds a low table decked for two as well as food. _Proper_ food. Jesse can immediately tell that the meat is beef, and oooh is that seasoned potato wedges and greens? Yes, yes it is. There’s a small bowl next to each plate filled with what Jesse suspects is gravy.

And then, once his eyes has taken in all of the food, they land on Grey Eyes. By then the door has slid shut behind Jesse, leaving him alone with the Shimada yakuza heir.

Jesse would probably have stared at Grey Eyes if not for the food. Damn, he was _starving_ , and if the heir was planning on having him around and watch as he ate (possibly with another visitor), Jesse was not going to be a happy camper.

But instead, Grey Eyes rises from the chair by the desk and gestures towards the low table. “Please.”

And well, Jesse wasn’t going to have the heir tell him twice. The American moves towards the table and plops gracelessly down onto one of the pillows. Grey Eyes has a more graceful approach, his long-sleeved orange and white robe-esque attire hanging comfortably around his shoulders, and he sinks down onto his knees on the available pillow. It leaves the two of them facing each other on the opposites sides of the table.

Jesse’s stomach takes this opportunity to growl. Loudly.

He makes a small face which then morphs into a sheepish apologetic one as he looks at Grey Eyes. The Japanese man seems to just study him impassively, and after a few moments, Jesse puts an elbow on the table, puts his cheek in his palm, and gives the heir a suggestive smirk. “See somethin’ you like, darlin’?” Of course he was just being his usual charming self. There was no way he was going to flirt with the Shimada heir.

For a moment the impassive mask cracks however, and Jesse sees a small smile tug on Grey Eyes’ lips.

The heir doesn’t respond however, he simply gestures towards his plate. “Please, eat.”

And that’s all Jesse needs to hear before he reaches for the knife and fork(!!) and begins to dig in. He’s so hungry that he forgets all about his manners, and eats like he would have if he had been at home. By the time he’s done, his shirt is stained and dirty as well as the entire lower half of his face. But wow is Jesse content. He leans back a little and looks up at Grey Eyes, who is staring back at him with one eyebrow raised. You would have thought the heir had invited a literal pig to dine with him rather than Jesse.

Jesse just grins as he gets the napkin and quickly cleans his mouth and chin. “I didn’t know much I needed that,” he begins as the dirty napkin is disposed on his empty plate. “Thank you.”

Grey Eyes looks somewhat amused, and Jesse notices his posture slumping just a tad. “You eat like you have never seen food before.” Is the response.

“Well, darlin’, if you had seen the food I’ve eaten today you would understand.” It earns him a small snort from the heir, who continues to eat. Grey Eyes had a bit more civil and calm approach to his food and wasn’t even halfway done yet. The funny thing is that he seemingly didn’t mind how Jesse had made a mess of himself. This heir compared to the heir he’d seen yesterday are like two completely different people.

Jesse shifts a little. Now that his belly was full, he was getting curious. Why was he here? In Grey Eyes’ room? Hell, what was Grey Eyes’ name even?

But he doesn’t say anything. Instead he just watches the heir eat, taking in all of his features, the way his adam’s apple bobs every time he swallows, the way strands of dark hair frames his face - and somehow doesn’t get in the way of his food, the way he’s holding the cutlery - and Jesse is pretty certain he detects callouses on his hands. Interesting.

But most of all, it’s the eyes that draws him in. Never before has Jesse seen such eyes.

“I believe you are staring again.”

Grey Eyes breaks the silence, his voice is neutral but the question is definitely playful. Jesse just smirks. “Yes, that would be the case.”

_Right, so much for not flirting with the yakuza heir._

Said heir didn’t seem to mind though. And now that Grey Eyes had broken the silence, Jesse took it as a sign to speak as well.

“Why did you have me brought here?”

A few seconds passes without Grey Eyes visibly acknowledging the answer, and Jesse looks away as he scratches the back of his neck. He should have figured the heir wasn’t here to entertain him.

“My father is away and I did not feel like eating alone.”

The neutral voice makes him look over at the Japanese man once more, and Jesse’s lips pulls into a smug smirk.

“And you decided to bring lil’ old me over for company. Awww, darlin’, I’m so very touched.” Playfulness is dripping from his tone of voice, and he can see the heir’s lips twitch as well. Suddenly it’s like his heart is feel all kinds of fluttery.

“I also wanted to take the opportunity to inform you of your abysmal skills as a sweeper.”

Oh, now Grey Eyes was _definitely_ teasing him in return. Jesse could tell despite the neutral tone and the lack of grey eyes on him. It is a very good feeling.

“Hah!” He barks a laugh. “No need, Yuka already made me sweep the path again - and I’m pretty sure she woulda made me do it again if the sun wasn’t settin’.”

The heir puts his cutlery down, having seemingly decided that he was full despite there being plenty of potato wedges left. “You know, Mr. McCree, it takes a person two hours at most to sweep the path.”

“A’ight, first of all, it’s _Jesse._ People callin’ me _Mr. McCree_ makes me feel like I’m sixty-five.” Even though the heir’s pronunciation of his last name was awfully cute. “Second, I’m not a servant. I’ve never swept a long ass path before, darlin’, you can’t judge me as you would someone else.”

“Right now you are a servant,” Grey Eyes challenges with a gleam in his eyes. “Until my father sees fit to release you, you belong to the Shimada yakuza.”

That does make a small shiver run down his back. The way Grey Eyes worded himself makes it seem so final, like he was a genuine part of the household and not just collateral.

“Well then me at least know the name of my master,” he purrs, his eyes locking with the heir’s. It’s obvious from the way Grey Eyes’ eyes widens a little he hadn’t expected that retort - and honestly Jesse was feeling rather clever. Instead of just randomly asking for the other’s name, he casually used the topic to his advantage.

The heir tilts his head a little, grey eyes looking Jesse up and down, before he shakes his head a little. “Shimada Hanzo.”

It feels like a major victory. Hanzo. _Hanzo_ . He was no longer _Shimada Son, the heir, Grey Eyes._ He was Hanzo.

_Hanzo._

“Nice ta meetcha, Hanzo.” Jesse drawls with a smug smirk, again wanting to tip his hat but this time he remembers it’s not there.

“Pleasure is all yours, I am sure.”

Well, there was no sense in denying that. Jesse is grinning wildly now, but before he can say anything, the door to Hanzo’s room slides open. The bodyguard is there, and Hanzo immediately straightens and puts on a small frown as he looks at the suit clad man. They converse back and forth for a few moments before eventually Hanzo gives a nod. Unless Jesse is mistaken, he catches a brief gleam of disapproval in those grey eyes.

“It seems like the pleasantries are over.” Hanzo rises from his cushion, and while initially Jesse wants to protest - because everything was just so nice right now, damn it - he knows better than to be rude. Looking over Hanzo however, it seems like the heir becomes more guarded when he wasn’t alone. And although Jesse hadn’t really gotten all the answers he wanted, he admitted that this was a start. Maybe they would have more time in the future to talk. Jesse sure hoped that.

“I trust you will find your way back?” Hanzo arches an eyebrow as he looks at the American, who gets up onto his feet with a nod. Actually it would be nice for once to walk on his own rather than having a chaperone or someone constantly manhandling him.

The bodyguard moves inside the room to let Jesse out, and it’s shut behind his back, leaving him alone now in the hallway.

Ah well. At least the dinner had been _amazing_. Now his only issue was to find his way back to his room, a task he begins to suspect will be more and more difficult the more he walks. All the hallways looks like each other, and the fancy servants doesn’t even give him a glance as they pass him. Now Yuka’s definition made more sense.

After about ten minutes of walking, being lost, more walking and more being lost, he rounds a corner and accidentally collides with someone. Jesse has to take a few steps back in order to maintain his balance, while the other unfortunate ends up sprawling on their back.

“Shit!” he scrambles forward quickly, hoping the other wasn’t injured - or worse, mad - but as he moves to the stranger’s side, he hears laughter.

Not any kind of laughter, no, this was the laughter of someone that was at least five drinks in. Jesse was very familiar with it, having been around his fair share of drunk gang members.

For someone to be drunk in the Shimada house though, it meant they were no servant or bodyguard. One look at the attire - snug black trousers, green shirt, white (albeit dirty) shoes - confirms that this sure as hell ain’t no servant or bodyguard. This was probably one of those VIPs, but as Jesse lets his eyes find the laughing stranger’s face (biological male, his mind supplies) he realises that this man couldn’t possibly be more than a few years younger or older than himself. Most likely younger.

“Shit, I’m so sorry,” Jesse begins and offers a hand to the stranger as the laughter is reduced to a drunken chortle. At this proximity he can smell the aura of alcohol and cigarette smoke on him.

“Naaah, nah, ‘s'all good!” The strangers English is very good despite his current state of inebriation, Jesse notices, and he’s surprised to see that he manages to sit up on his own too. “Wasn’t looking where I was going... ‘s a bit difficult when the floor’s movin’.” He flashes Jesse a smirk, and he can tell this is someone that’s used to relying on his looks in order to get what he wants.

Jesse isn’t all too sure if he minds. This man is attractive - and it’s obvious that he’s aware of it himself, or maybe it was just the alcohol that was messing with him. Before the American can offer another response besides an amused snort, the man suddenly clasps his fingers around the still extended hand and begins to pull himself up. Jesse almost topples over in the process, but manages to stay on his feet - though he almost falls backwards as the stranger stumbles in his own feet and steadies himself by pressing his face into Jesse’s neck.

Oh shit.

See, while Jesse wouldn’t normally mind this situation, something tells him it would not be any good if he went ahead and flirted with the Shimada VIPs. So instead of wrapping his arms around the shorter male, he gently puts his hands on his shoulders and pushes him away a little.

“Mm, you smell goooooood.” The stranger drawls, eyes hooded and a smug smirk on his lips.

Christ, this was not going to be easy.

“See, I woulda said the same thing but you smell like a non-ventilated brewery.” Jesse teases in return. Most of the horrid smell came from his breath, but also the semi-short swept back dark hair.

This man was clearly in need of a shower. Or a bath. Or both. At the same time.

Usually Jesse would have _oh so graciously_ volunteered to take care of this stranger, but alas.

The other man’s head tilts a little and eyes widens briefly to reveal hazel eyes. “Mm, wait, you’re the… the American!” A triumphant smirk appears on his lips now, and he doesn’t hesitate to lean closer - and Jesse’s own eyes widens when he feels fingers toying with the waistband of his trousers.

Oh double shit.

“Ah, I’m Jesse, yes, and who’re you?”

Distract him, for the love of God, _distract him._

The stranger doesn’t even as much as bat an eyelash, simply continues to hold Jesse’s eyes as the tugs lightly on the American’s trousers. “Mm… call me Interested. Very Interested.”

_Fuck._

(He also makes a mental note of using that pickup line back home.)

Jesse swallows thickly, his own body betraying him now, and he actually considers pulling the stranger close and see if he couldn’t get a taste of whatever alcohol that must surely be still lingering on his lips.

Though just as he feels warm fingers slipping underneath his drab shirt and move up his back, he hears a bark of Japanese words behind him.

The stranger’s hazel eyes moves from Jesse and lands on someone past his shoulder, and his smirk immediately turns into a pout. The warm fingers disappears from the skin on his back just as a bodyguard comes into Jesse’s sight.

Oh man, this was it, wasn’t it? Jesse was now going to be hauled to the execution block for having seduced a high standing Shimada VIP.

But no. Instead, the bodyguard takes hold of the stranger’s arm and pulls him away from Jesse, and the two converse briefly. The bodyguard looks tense and on edge, while the stranger is drunkenly chuckling and waving his hand dismissively. Eventually however, the bodyguard must have had enough because he begins to drag the stranger down the hallway.

“I’ll see you around, American.” The stranger grins as Jesse meets his eyes, and he sees a pink tongue darting over his lips before the two rounds a corner.

For a moment Jesse just stares at the corner, not really knowing what’s going to happen now - but when no one comes for him, he decides to continue on his way. Though walking is a bit of a problem, he realises, especially since he now has a… more personal issue down south.

Clearly it’s been way too long since he got laid.

Jesse groans softly to himself and rubs his face. He deserved a god damn prize for having withstood that stranger.

He ends up finding the servants area only five minutes later however, but instead of slipping into his bedroom, he makes a beeline for the showers and only hopes they’re empty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This got a bit out of hand and turned out to be a lot longer than what I anticipated (oops)
> 
> As before, I apologise for grammatical errors and/or weirdly constructed sentences. This is unbeta'd but proofread several times by yours truly.
> 
> If you happen to find anything that looks particularly wonky, please let me know!


	3. iii

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for late update, life suddenly got a bit hectic (´°ω°`)
> 
> A huge thank you to everyone that commented and left kudos! I'm a bit iffy about this chapter, but hopefully things will start picking up in the next one ( ᐛ )و

Day two starts out much like the day before. Yuka wakes him up and pulls him along for breakfast, the only difference now is that he knows what to expect. The food is still awful however. All around him people are talking softly in Japanese, making it easy for the American to zone out and think about yesterday’s happenings. A part of him still can’t believe that Hanzo had actually invited him up to his room to have dinner with him - and again he’s stuck by just how changed the heir was compared to the day prior. And of course there was the encounter that happened after, with the handsy VIP. Jesse still can’t believe he managed to keep his grounds - apparently he has more resolve than what he originally thought. Or maybe it was self preservation that kicked in.

Either way, a part of him wonders if he’ll see him again.

After they’ve eaten, Yuka pulls him along up into one of the private sections of the home. For a moment Jesse hopes to see Hanzo again, but before that hope can blossom too much, he’s promptly shoved into a room that makes his eyes water and his throat itch.

The room is filled with cigarette smoke (Jesse knows that smell from just about anywhere) but it’s so thick it reminds him of smog rather than the light mist that happened to collect whenever Jesse played card games with his friends back home. Yuka follows after, looking undisturbed by everything, and she quickly moves across the room in order to open all of the windows.

Still, it would take a long while before the room was properly cleared… and Jesse suspects the smell was going to linger forever. Or maybe this room was designed for this purpose; smoking indoors.

Though as the smog begins to clear a little however, Jesse begins to see the outline of a large table. He’s still not certain what to make of things however, not until he sees the many,  _ many _ , discarded shot glasses resting on the surface of the table.

Well, clearly someone had a party in here last night. The drunk, handsy stranger comes to mind, but this room as in the complete opposite part of the house than where he had encountered the stranger, so it was unlikely he had been part of this. Unless of course said stranger had walked around the house for a bit… that wouldn’t be too unlikely.

With the room clearing, the smell of alcohol becomes more prominent. Everything smells stale though, as if this room has been locked up for a while.

Honestly, Jesse just wants to linger by the windows and not move, but Yuka won’t have it. Thank God the room is cleared up fairly easy however, after an hour or so they’re all done, and now Jesse is itching for a smoke on his own.

It’s a wish that’s somewhat granted when Yuka leads him outside to a different garden and tells him to water the many flowers here. It sounds more like a job for a gardener to be honest, but Jesse wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. Yuka shows him to the tool shed (which is hidden away so as not to disturb the imagery) and then leaves him to it.

The first thing Jesse does is to light a cigarette. Next, is surveying this part of the outside.

It seems a bit more private than the garden with the long path. This one is also smaller and has trees placed so as to give illusions of small pockets of private spaces. Overall it’s very nice, very peaceful. The flowers are also more discreet, not so flashy in colours, and Jesse has a feeling of cozy hominess.

Though as much as he wants to stay here and admire the view, he does (apparently) have a job to do. And while his body is sore as all hell from yesterday, he’s actually looking forward to just… water a few flowers and be done with it. The cigarette is discarded as soon as he’s done with it.

He’s managed to fill the watering can and watered the soil around a few flowering bushes when he becomes aware of sounds from not too far away. There’s a small overgrown path winding through the small garden, and the sounds are coming from right around the bend created by a few trees.

It’s not very loud noises, more like soft grunts and feet scraping against the ground. After a few minutes or so, Jesse can’t really hide his curiosity any longer. He inches sideways along the overgrown island of trees and bushes, leaving the watering can behind, before crouching down just as he reaches the bend.

It’s Hanzo.

His hair is pulled into a high ponytail this time, and he’s wearing poofy brown trousers, and an orange and white coat with wide sleeves. But while the lack of a robe is one thing, Jesse is quickly distracted by just what Hanzo is doing.

The heir is holding in a large, ornate bow in his left hand, his right hand having pulled the string all the way back as he aims the arrow. At first Jesse can’t really see what he’s aiming at, but as he leans sideways a little he sees the tiniest bull’s eye he’s ever seen, roughly eighty metres away. The target is even slightly obscured by leaves as it seems to be partially hidden by the branches of the tree it’s secured to.

Honestly, who could ever hit that.

Hanzo. That was who.

It looks as natural to the heir as breathing. Hanzo releases the arrow, and the string propels it forward. Seconds later there’s a soft thud as the arrow connects with the target. But Hanzo doesn’t look particularly pleased. Instead his expression dips into a frown and he grunts softly with a disappointment, before he moves over to a nearby tree in order to fetch another arrow.

That must have been the noises Jesse heard earlier.

Seriously though, he’s impressed. Jesse was not unfamiliar with weapons, his trusted gun was second to his hat in terms of sentimental value, and while he could hit targets closer to him, he wouldn’t have Hanzo’s aim when it came to targets at that distance.

He would seriously love to try that bow though, it looks sturdy and well made; all polished wood and soft leather.

Hanzo is seemingly in his own world as he moves to stand on the previous spot, and puts the arrow against the string. It’s fascinating. Jesse lets his eyes eagerly run over the man, taking in his posture and grace, and he’s reminded of an agile cat in the way Hanzo moves.

And was that a hint of ink that was peering out between Hanzo’s sleeve and glove? Jesse’s eyes narrows as he attempts to get a closer look. He’s still far enough to not see any details, but he’s pretty certain the young heir must have tattooed something on his left arm.

How very  _ yakuza-esque _ of him. 

Jesse continues to watch as Hanzo until the heir has run out of arrows, and by then his legs are really cramping up. As much as he would have enjoyed watching the man fetch more arrows, Yuka is suddenly there to pull him back to his duties by his ear.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Yuka had personally supervised him for the duration of his watering duties, and when he was done, she had promptly pulled him back inside. Apparently Jesse couldn’t be left to his own devices when he was outside. So instead, he’s lead into a sparsely decorated room in the servant’s section and told to take a seat by the table. Yuka had arrived later with, what Jesse estimated had to be, half of the silver contained in the Shimada castle.

And she had expected him to polish everything too.

Three hours later and he wasn’t even halfway, but that’s when a fancy servant had popped up and gestured for him to follow. The fact that Jesse reeked of polishing cleaner (and the room too, for that matter) didn’t even seem to bother her.

He was then lead the same path through the castle, and at this hour Jesse could see a lot more fancy servants walking about. No one looked at him however.

A few minutes later Jesse is standing inside Hanzo’s room, the bodyguard having closed the shoji door behind him.

Hanzo is sitting by the low table again, but it’s not decked for dinner (Jesse notices sadly, even though he knows it’s way too early for dinner). Instead, the heir is sipping tea from an elegant, round cup without a handle.

“Did you enjoy the show?” Hanzo isn’t looking at him.

“Pardon?” Jesse is more confused than anything, before suddenly remembering having spied on Hanzo earlier that day. A small sheepish smile crosses his features, which Hanzo notices as he glances at the American from the corner of his eyes.

“You make a lousy servant.”

“Well that we’ve already established that, darlin’” His sheepish smile morphs into a smirk as he walks around the table in order to plop down on the available cushion. Just like last evening, except this time he hadn’t really waited for Hanzo’s approval before moving.

“Is that why I’m here though? You wantin’ to scold me again?” Because he was pretty certain that Hanzo could have chewed him out earlier when he had obviously noticed him watching the archery practice. Jesse isn’t particularly worried though, if anything he’s feeling comfortable and relaxed. Which was probably the very last things he should feel around a yakuza heir.

“Something tells me it would be a waste of time.” Hanzo responds before taking a sip of his tea. The long sleeves slides down a little, revealing more of strong arms - as well as inked skin. Jesse feels himself drawn to it. There are no colours, only an outline, but the lines seems to form a dragon’s head on his wrist.

“That it would,” Jesse replies with a cheeky smile. If anything he’s both amazed and surprised at himself for behaving so nicely, but then again, the looming and unspoken  _ or else _ from the Shimada boss would perhaps be enough for anyone to behave.

That, and Jesse didn’t want to be responsible for fucking up the Deadlock/Shimada deal.

“So why am I here then?” he continues, his eyes moving up from the tattoo to Hanzo’s grey eyes.

“You are here because I am curious.”

“Well shoot, darlin’, for you I’m but an open book.” Funny how he also meant it.

Grey eyes locks with his brown ones, and they seem calmer today. More like the dark clouds before rain rather than a thunderstorm. Hanzo seems to study him, although before Jesse can inquire about it, he speaks.

“Why are you here?”

Well that was a fairly easy question. “Because when you call, I have no choice but to ditch whatever I’m doing and show up, sugar.” The answer doesn’t quite seem to please him however. Apparently this was no time for playful sassing.

Hanzo furrows his brows slightly, showing his disapproval. “Why are you here in Hanamura, why did you go with your associate?”

Aaah. The question made more sense now. “Well, I wasn’t really told this was what we were goin’ to do. I was asked if I wanted to go to Japan, that was all - and I’d be stupid to decline.” In hindsight, Jesse should have been smarter. So much smarter.

“You were not aware of the scheduled meeting nor the deal?”

“Not in the least bit, darlin’.”

“Hm.” Hanzo looks away from him then and puts the empty tea cup gently down onto the table. “You are… awfully agreeable despite being here against your will.” Meaning they had expected him to throw a fit or attempt to escape.

“It’s just the second day though, my third day overall in Japan.” Jesse smirks as he puts his elbows on the table and leans forward a little. “I still have time to show some spirit, if that’s what you want, sweetheart.”

Honestly, at this point, all the flirting just came natural to him. Hanzo was good looking - Hanzo was also a yakuza heir - but Hanzo wasn’t shooting him down or telling him to stop. Nor did he seem uncomfortable. If anything, he didn’t even seem fazed at all.

Hanzo sends him a glare and Jesse chuckles softly as he holds his hands up in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. Had this been me visitin’ on my own, you can be damn sure I wouldn’t have let myself be pushed around like this. But I’m not here as a private person, I’m here as a Deadlock… representative, I guess.

“I just don’t wanna screw up anythin’ as somethin’ tells me your pa might kill me if I do - and if he doesn’t, I would probably get killed when I get back to the gang.”

Hanzo seems to listen intently, taking in every word as he looks at the American. His expression is completely blank however, not betraying any feelings whatsoever on the subject. And when he remains quiet, Jesse simply continues.

“I could probably try to escape, but where would I go? I know nothin’ of the area, I don’t speak the language and I certainly don’t exactly blend in. I would stick out as a sore thumb, darlin’. Not to mention that poor lil’ Jesse doesn’t have any local currency - so I might as well stay and try to be useful until I’m allowed to go home.”

This was probably the most he’d spoken since he’d sat foot inside the Shimada castle, and it felt nice to actually speak and be understood. Yuka would either ignore him or give him a confused look whenever he tried to speak to her about something that wasn’t work related.

Still, Hanzo seems rather guarded. Where was the smiling from yesterday?

“Are there more Deadlock people in Hanamura?” Sheesh, the way the place name rolled off of Hanzo’s tongue made Jesse feel rather tingly.

“Not as far as I know. Johnson and I were the only two that arrived two days ago, and since hopefully Johnson have left by now, I’m the only one here.” Johnson  _ better _ have left yesterday, damn it.

“And what will you do if the deal is postponed?”

“You’re askin’ what I’ll do if I have to stay here indefinitely?”

“Yes.”

Hmm, that was a tough one, wasn’t it. Jesse hums and runs a hand through his hair, thinking it over. “I guess…” he begins hesitantly, having honestly not thought about it. “... I guess I would have no other choice but to stay until your pa  _ saw fit to release me _ .” He responds, purposefully using the words Hanzo used on him earlier.

It was a lie however, Jesse would not sit idle if he wasn’t released. If anything, he would take something from the castle and try to sell it once he had snuck out. From there he would try to get a ticket back to the States, and then he would personally kick each and every Deadlock member in the arse. Maybe use one as his personal cigarette extinguisher.

Hanzo hums but doesn’t comment. Of course he wouldn’t. Jesse was really good at lying and making it seem convincing.

“That is all.”

“Huh?”

“You may leave.”

“But, sweetheart, I just got he-”

“I have business to tend to.”

And that was that. The bodyguard had slid the door open and had started at Jesse until he had gotten up and left the room. Jesse had managed to sneak out into the garden from yesterday for a smoke, but Yuka had caught him slacking and dragged him back to the room before he had finished his cigarette. 

Life was so unfair sometimes.

When Jesse had finished polishing the god damn silverware, Yuka had inspected it before pointing out a few spoons that needed to be re-done. Which wasn’t too bad, he guessed. Once that was over, she had instructed him to go to the kitchen.

There, he had to clean a day’s worth of dishes (it was ridiculous how much went into creating meals for so many servants, even though this didn’t even include the fancy ones). Dinner came and went, but Jesse wasn’t released until wayyyy later -  _ after _ he had cleaned the dishes used for making dinner. Two others had eventually joined him in order to speed things up.

By that point he was starving, and pretty much wolfed down leftovers as he sat on the far end of a long table while the rest of the kitchen staff sat on the other end. Once done, he just wanted to go back to his room and relax - maybe sneak out later for a smoke.

That was not the case however.

“Mmm… I figured I’d find you again.”

The familiar voice of the stranger from yesterday catches his attention, and he stops not too far from the kitchen he had just left. Jesse turns to have a look, more or less just to confirm that this was indeed the stranger, but he’s immediately taken by the sight of strikingly green hair. That was new.

He seemed just as drunk as last night however, even though it wasn’t nearly as late. It couldn’t be more than nine in the evening.

“Listen, partner.” He begins patiently, fully intending on explaining a thing or two to this dashing man. But instead he’s cut off by a chuckle.

“Oh relaaaax, I’m not here for you.” He smirks before sauntering closer, effectively closing the distance between them. It would seem like the stranger’s sense of balance was very well preserved despite his current inebriated condition. “Just… came by to visit someone, and I figured that if I waited around long enough, you’d show up. And here you are.”

Stranger drapes his arms loosely around Jesse’s neck, giving the american a whiff of the smell of his breath. It wasn’t any better than last night, and the chemical smell from the recently dyed hair didn’t make it any better.

“Well, people around here are awfully concerned with me not sleepin’ anywhere else,” Jesse comments, his hands finding Stranger’s hips despite himself. There is… something familiar with the young japanese’s face however, but Jesse can’t place it. Maybe he was just being racist… but he sure hoped not - even if he did have some issues differentiating between a few servants around here.

Stranger’s hazel eyes though is enhanced by the green hair. It’s an odd combination, maybe, it certainly works for Stranger.

“Yes, that can be said about me too,” Stranger drawls, a smug smirk on his lips as he continues to look up into Jesse’s face. “But sometimes… you just have to go against the grain if you want to be happy.” He moves one of his arms away from around Jesse’s neck and instead lightly pats his cheek.

There seems to be a bit more to that sentence than what Stranger is giving away, and it makes Jesse a little confused.

“What’s your name again?” He attempts to get things back on track, but Stranger doesn’t respond. He simply leans in and presses his lips softly to Jesse’s jawline.

Honestly, he thought it would set off warning bells in his mind, but they remain silent. If anything, even his voice of reason has been replaced by an enabler that wants to pull Stranger closer.

“Isn’t it more fun if you don’t know?” murmurs Stranger against his jawline.

Again, had this been the States, Jesse sure as hell wouldn’t have minded taking a willing person to his bed. But this was not the States. This was really fucking far from the States.

“Considering that I’m a hostage in the heart of the Shimada yakuza, you can’t fault a man for bein’ paranoid.”

That earns him a soft, breathy laugh, and Stranger eventually presses himself against Jesse. “You’re funny, I like you.” His voice is a whisper in his ear, making the American shudder slightly.

A part of him can’t help but to imagine that this man was Hanzo instead. What if it was Hanzo that pressed himself against him, was drunkenly slurring, and called him funny? What if this was Hanzo that said  _ I like you _ ? 

Well everything would be ten times better and ten times worse. Starting something with a yakuza heir was suicide, not to mention that said heir had never shown an interest in Jesse. This stranger, however, did.

Before anything else happens though, Jesse hears the sound of a shoji door sliding open and a soft woman’s voice seemingly calling for the stranger.

Stranger pulls his head away from Jesse and instead turns to look over his shoulder, and then his lips pulls into a smug (albeit drunk) smirk. “Ah, seems like I made her wait - how lousy of me.” But the tone of his voice was anything but remorseful.

“I’ll see you later,  _ Jesse _ .” Stranger emphasises his name with a smirk, gleefully gloating over the fact that he knew Jesse’s name while Jesse was left in the dark. Stranger then gives him a small pat before pushing himself away from the American, before slipping into the woman’s room. She was obviously a servant, and clearly Stranger didn’t seem to mind that in the slightest. 

Jesse just huffs, feeling more confused than aroused this time, and he quickly moves to his room before anyone else can stop him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ain't no rest for the wicked, haven't you learnt that yet, Jesse (•̀⌄•́)
> 
> As always, this chapter is unbeta'd etc etc
> 
> Please let me know if you happen to find wonky sentences or weird grammar ( ﾟ▽ﾟ)/


	4. iv

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, there goes the rating ^^'
> 
> A big thank you to everyone that left kudos and commented <3

Days seems to blur together, and Jesse is rather surprised when he one evening catches himself being able to correctly predict how his day was going to be. Apparently he now has roughly a routine, even though the specific chores seemed to vary from day to day. After breakfast he was expected to be in one of the gardens (he had learnt that the Shimada castle had five gardens - two of which functioned like public garden/park mix. The three other ones were private, where the largest one was the one where Jesse had spent the entire day sweeping the path. The smallest was a zen garden where specialised servants created intricate and beautiful patterns in the sand, it was also the garden with the most beautiful view. The middle sized garden was the one where Jesse had found Hanzo practicing his archery, with the windy path and the trees creating small pockets of semi-privacy).

Jesse was never left on his own for long however, as Yuka had quickly realised that he would smoke and relax if he was left unattended for longer periods of time. Once he was done outside, Yuka would pull him inside for more chores. One of the worst things was when she put him to scrub all of the hallways of the northern part of the castle - all floors. Normally, if someone had asked him to do that, he would have laughed in their faces, actually he might have laughed when Yuka had handed him a bucket and an old rag - but when she had deadpanned, his laughter had awkwardly trailed off.

Honestly he would have thought the servants of the Shimada yakuza lived hundred years in the past, but then he remembers that they had at least hoovers back in the 1960s. So maybe this was the 1860s then. Either way, it took him the entire day, and he was left with blisters on his hands, and his knees were chafed almost raw.

Sometimes Yuka would have him perform simpler tasks throughout the day instead of one huge task, but even still, Jesse would flop exhausted to bed after dinner. The food being served was growing on him however, so at least that was good. It was also incredibly healthy, compared to the greasy servings he helped himself to back with the gang.

When Jesse had been at the estate for a week and a half, he had been summoned by the Shimada kingpin for an update. The American had almost wet himself as he stood before the big cheese, with five bodyguards judging his every move. Still, the yakuza leader had been informative and to the point, telling him that an agreement was being sent back and forth between the mafia and the gang, but things were starting to wrap up. So, the kingpin assumed, it wouldn’t be long before Jesse would be released.

Jesse wasn’t quite sure what to think of that, to be honest. On one hand, he was very much looking forward to wear his own clothes again (and his hat, mind you) and he was also looking forward to do what he pleased, smoke whenever he wanted to, and sleep in till nood. On the other, he kind of wanted to see more of Hanzo. Which was a startling revelation.

The yakuza heir hadn’t summoned him to his room since the last time, but Jesse had caught glimpses of him here and there. In the morning he would usually be outside and practice with a sword or a bow, but a few times he had seen Hanzo meditating in the zen garden. They never talked, Hanzo never acknowledged his presence, and Jesse was usually pulled away before he could say anything that would reflect poorly on Yuka.

Stranger was seemingly gone from the Shimada castle. Maybe his visit was over, maybe he had found someone else to play around with, Jesse didn’t know. But if he was still here, Jesse assumed that it would be easy to find him because of his neon green hair. It wasn’t that he missed him, if anything, Jesse missed the close proximity. People here seemed to have a personal bubble of three metres, unlike Jesse who was used to playful nudging, pats on the back or even a fist to his face if a fight broke out.

He was almost… a little lonely. Almost.

The first few days had been dotted with little pockets with downtime and socialisation. With those pockets gone, Jesse was mostly left in his own “English Foreigner” bubble. A few times he had attempted to speak in Spanish, but the servants seemed to be just as clueless as when he talked in English. Even the stereotypical suave that came with Spanish didn’t seem to faze them in the slightest. Honestly, you would have thought that English was taught worldwide in 2060… but that seemingly wasn’t the case. Or maybe they were shy, or maybe they didn’t like him - if that was the case then they didn’t show it externally. If anything, they treated him more like a stray puppy.

Could be worse.

So after yet another lonely dinner (even Yuka seemed to be too busy to keep him company, funny how he had come to realise that she wasn’t that bad after all when the alternative was loneliness) he simply heads for his room. Maybe he could don his clothes just to get a feeling of himself again - but nah, it feels like too much work. The hat would suffice.

Jesse slides the door shut behind him with a sigh before he flops onto his bed, and he turns his head to peer at his hat that’s resting on the desk. A small piece of home.

Though just before he nods off, he hears the door sliding open. A flash of irritation surges through him then. No one but Yuka had so far come into his room so he had no reason to think it would be anyone else. And he swears to all the gods out there, if she intends to pull him out for more chores (or even have him re-do something he already did today) he was going to throw a fit.

His eyes opens and he pushes himself up into a kneeling position, more or less ready to give Yuka a piece of his mind, but it turns out it’s not Yuka.

“Oh… would you look at that. This isn’t my room. Oops~” Stranger smirks at him from where he’s leaning casually against the wall next to the cloed shoji door, looking very much like the cat that ate the canary.

Jesse feels his irritation being slowly replaced with confusion. This was the first time he’d seen Stranger since last week, and he would have thought he’d never see him again. Not that Jesse considered it a huge loss by any means. He awkwardly manages to turn around on the bed and sit down on the edge, his feet now touching the floor.

“You’ve been drinkin’ so much you don’t even know where your room is?” is his response, one eyebrow raised skeptically. Stranger had been absolutely wasted the first two times they had met, and Jesse has no reason to believe that this is an exception.

But it seemed that like third time’s indeed the charm, because when Stranger stalks forward and plops down onto Jesse’s lap, he doesn’t outright smell like a brewery. The tinge of sweet alcohol is upon him, yes, but not the extreme quality as the previous times.

And it’s a little funny how Jesse acknowledges the alcohol smell rather than the fact that he has his lap full of a tipsy japanese Stranger.

“Yes, so it seems I will have to spend my night here… surely you won’t mind, hmm?” Stranger’s voice is sweet as honey in Jesse’s ear, and he can’t suppress the shiver that runs down his spine as Stranger shifts on his lap so that his knees are on either side of Jesse’s hips - the action causing their waists to lightly rub together.

This was dangerous territory… but Jesse remembers how that servant girl had eagerly called for Stranger. If the servants got in trouble for sleeping with the VIPs, it didn’t seem to bother them. Jesse looks up into hazel, mischievous eyes, the bright green hair only further complimenting their fascinating colour. This stranger is dangerously good looking, and he doesn’t fail to notice how perfectly he fits on his lap either.

Before he can really stop himself, Jesse has put his palms on Stranger’s lower back. This man is trouble, oh so much trouble, but then again, it wasn’t like Jesse himself was a saint.

It’s almost as if Stranger can see Jesse’s internal conflict, because he leans forward and begins to lightly press his lips up Jesse’s jawline, his arms coming around Jesse’s neck in order to push their chests together. It’s a slightly awkward position, but right now Jesse can’t really find himself to care. The kisses feels so good, and he feels his resolve rapidly falter - his fingers tightening in the fabric Stranger’s t-shirt.

A part of him wonders what he would do if Hanzo was the one that was on his lap, if it was Hanzo that was pressing himself against his chest… if it was Hanzo that was leaving a trail of kisses down his jawline, moving closer to his lips for every press of his lips. It’s a thought that goes straight to his groin, and he can’t help but to groan softly.

At this rate he was going to fall for the yakuza heir, and that wasn’t really what he had planned.

“What’s… yer name?” he breathes shakily, his accent now more prominent as he struggles to retain the shred of control he has left. However at this point he has already tilted his head a little in order to give Stranger better access to his neck and jawline.

“Didn’t we already agree it was more fun if you didn’t know?” is the breathy response but it’s tinged with mischievousness. Stranger is obviously getting a kick out of this. Before Jesse can insist however, he sucks his breath in as the stranger suddenly nips at his jawline. But despite the distraction of stinging skin, he feels a nagging curiosity; why won’t he tell him his name? Why was he so intent on keeping it a secret? What was he hiding?

The last one is particularly uncomfortable.

Again, before he can insist, he’s distracted by slender fingers slowly moving up into his hair. For a moment it’s a pleasant distraction, before Jesse’s head is yanked back, making him hiss softly with surprise and slight discomfort. It’s not painful however. By now Stranger is standing on his knees, hovering over the American as brown eyes meets hazel.

“You don’t have to know, it’s not important.” There’s a gleam of command in Stranger’s eyes and even his voice has gained a slight edge. Jesse finds himself not minding either. If anything it’s refreshing, and his curiosity is quickly extinguished. “Alright, pardner.” Is the almost meek response.

Stranger is obviously used to taking command, he’s also obviously used to getting what he wants. As Jesse stares up into those hazel eyes however, he’s again struck with the sensation of finding them familiar. Not necessarily the eye colour, but the look in them.

Before he can really do anything else however, Stranger crashes their lips together.

Jesse isn’t unfamiliar with intimacy, far from it, and he’s had his fair share of kisses and thrysts throughout the years - but that being said, he’s never been on the receiving end of _this_. The man kisses like he’s possessed, lips yielding for teeth and tongue, and it doesn’t take long before Jesse parts his own lips and runs his palms up Stranger’s back.

If he wasn’t so distracted he would have paid more attention to Stranger’s body, the muscles there spoke of an athletic lifestyle despite what Jesse might think, but it’s very difficult to keep his thoughts on anything else than the talented tongue that’s currently invading his mouth. The fingers in his hair tightens as if to remind Jesse of his place, but he’s not going to put up any resistance at this point. Stranger wanted to lead? Jesse wasn’t going to complain.

He wasn’t one to really care about the whole gender aspect, and has slept with as many women as he has men. Most of the time he was the one leading, the one pressing his luck, the one running his fingers over their bodies first in order to find buttons, zippers or the hem of clothes. Occasionally his partner would take initiative, which was refreshing, but most of the times they turned into putty under his ministrations. Jesse usually took it as a compliment.

Right now however, his mind is still reeling a bit too much to do anything but hold on to Stranger as the Japanese man takes over.

It feels like he’s being devoured alive, and Stranger is hardly doing anything; just being assertive and controlling, but offering no pain. There’s only a slight discomfort as Jesse’s head is pulled further back by his hair, forcing him to face the ceiling as Stranger is standing on his knees on either side of his hips, their chests flush together, and their lips locked.

Jesse is partially convinced five hours must have passed when Stranger finally relents, his fingers pulling away from his hair, but his lips ghosts over Jesse’s. “I thought cowboys carried the spirit of wild mustangs,” he begins with a playful smirk, his voice a low and purring, “but it seems to me instead the mustangs have yielded for lap cats.”

It takes Jesse a moment to understand just what Stranger is referring to, and he slowly opens his eyes. He doesn’t move however, not even as he feels the other man leaning away from him and hands trailing down his sides, no doubts in order to find the hem of his drab uniform shirt. “I wouldn’t really call m’self a cowboy,” is Jesse’s breathy response, his fingers leaving Stranger’s back and straightens himself a little in order to make it easier for the other to pull the shirt off of him. “But I sure ain’t no lap cat.”

He doesn’t even notice where Stranger throws the shirt, Jesse simply reaches for the front of his t-shirt and pulls him into a second kiss, this one more assertive on his end.

If Stranger thought him someone that would just roll over and take whatever that would handed to him, Jesse was going to prove him very wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure if I should pick up where I left in the next chapter or skip ahead until morning. I'm not the best at writing explicit content (ノ*゜▽゜*) 
> 
> As always, this chapter is unbeta'd etc etc etc
> 
> Let me know if you find grammatical errors or weird sentences ( ﾟ▽ﾟ)/


	5. v

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well this wasn't really supposed to happen. I was supposed to simply move on to the next day, but apparently that's not the case \\_(ツ)_/
> 
> Here's 3.6k words of badly written smut instead (because I have next to zero experience writing this kind of thing asjdhbasd)
> 
> Since there won't be much explicit content in this story I don't really feel it's necessary to bump up the rating more than what it already is - instead take this note as a warning.

It’s not a battle with weapons that occurs, but rather with touch, teeth, lips and tongue. Jesse is only dimly aware of all the marks Stranger must have left on his chest and abdomen, his body tingling too much with want and desire, but he definitely registers his trousers being pulled off. His fingers finds hair partially stiff with styling products, and before Stranger can slip out his grasp, Jesse manages to move his hand down to his shoulder and give his t-shirt a tug. For a moment he believes his silent wish is ignored, but then Stranger pulls away before he swiftly pulls the t-shirt over his head, and tosses it to a corner.

Jesse doesn’t get much of a view before his underwear is effortlessly pulled down and quickly discarded altogether, causing him to tilt his head back against the pillows and squeeze his eyes shut. Warm palms glides slowly up his thighs, teasing him, and Jesse can already imagine the smirk to match. Stranger tells him to keep quiet, the walls are thin and surely he doesn’t want to disturb his neighbours. For a moment Jesse considers flipping them over and maybe Stranger would lose some of that smugness of his.

But then, without warning, his half hard shaft is engulfed in a wet heat,  _ and sweet Mary and Joseph _ if that didn’t catch him off guard. Jesse’s groan of surprise is quickly cut off as he brings an arm over his mouth, sinking his teeth into his own flesh in order to muffle the sounds.

Stranger has absolutely no mercy on him, however. Again, it makes Jesse feel as if he’s being devoured alive, and at one point he has to force himself from thrusting into that exceedingly talented mouth of Stranger’s. By now he’s fully hard and weeping, but that doesn’t seem to bother the other. The tongue that swirls around him, runs down his shaft with each bob of Stranger’s head, and probes the slit, speaks of an experience Jesse can only be envious of.

Either Jesse has gone too long without getting laid, or Stranger was way too good at this. He finds himself gulping down air, his body tense and his free hand is clutching the blanket under him. The pain radiating up his arm makes him instinctively let go with his teeth, and instead he finds a new area to bite down. It doesn’t take long before he’s flushed and clammy.

It feels so good, never in Jesse’s life has he been with someone as talented as Stranger, but the pace is too rushed for his liking. He prefers to take his sweet time (assuming he’s not in a rush, that is) and bring his partner to the edge and back before allowing them their sweet release. Though there was nothing wrong with a fast fuck if both partners were in the mood for that.  _ I can believe we survived that  _ sex is definitely on Jesse’s top ten list.

It’s not until Stranger outright swallows him down his throat Jesse lets out a broken cry and has to anchor his free hand into neon green hair. It feels so good, sooo gooood, and Jesse isn’t all too sure if he can manage to hold back his sounds anymore. Not to mention that the lewd sounds of Stranger’s work, slurping and humming, just adds to Jesse’s haze of pleasure. Never before has he experienced something like this, and he’s not entirely proud of himself as the heat pools low in his abdomen. It’s far too soon, he usually prided himself for his stamina, but boy howdy does this Japanese man completely tear him to shreds.

Fingers curls and tugs at green hair, and Jesse has to pull his arm away from his face in order to gulp down air. He’s aware of his laboured panting, and maybe once upon a time he would have pushed Stranger away in order to cool down and let the game continue a little longer. As it is now however, he’ll personally maim whoever decides to disturb them.

“ _ Fuck _ ,” he swears under his breath, hissing softly as Stranger hums again - and then Jesse’s mind goes blank as a nose is buried in the coarse hair on his lower abdomen. His lips continues to spill soft curses, but he’s not aware of it himself. It feels beyond anything he’s imagined and more heat pools low in him, making him subconsciously buck into the warm mouth. Stranger doesn’t even seem fazed, simply letting Jesse do whatever he wanted as he continues to easily devour him.

It’s not long until Jesse is a writhing mess, having completely forgotten everything about being quiet. “Shit, I’m gonna… I’m gonna…!” is all he manages to say, at least wanting to give Stranger a warning and a chance to pull away, but instead, he swallows him down again and remains there. Jesse groans again, his fingers tightening in green hair, as he throws himself over the edge.

Pleasure rockets through him, making him tilt his head back and arch his upper back a little - and the sonuvabitch is swallowing everything down as he treats Jesse’s shaft like a savoury lollipop.

Eventually, after what feels like half an eternity, Jesse finally calms down enough to relax his body and open his eyes. Stranger still has a hand around him, lips locked around his head and his tongue lapping leisurely over the slit. Just the sight and feel of it is enough to make Jesse’s interest stir again. But Stranger lets go of him completely and sits up, hazel eyes locked with glazed brown, and a tongue swipes slowly over his palm. Jesse can see traces of white on the tongue before it slips into Stranger’s mouth.

_ Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck- _

“Definitely a lap cat.”

Stranger’s hazel eyes are hooded and his lips are pulled into a mischievous smirk, and Jesse realises he’s trying to get a reaction from him. For a moment the only thing he can do is to stare at him and wonder what the hell just happened, but then Stranger lifts the blanket a little and uses a corner to wipe his lips and chin, as well as his hands. It doesn’t matter that the blanket is soiled now, Jesse’s mind is completely one-tracked anyway, and he manages to sit up. Stranger regards him with a mischievous interest, clearly curious as to what Jesse will do next, and since it would seem like control has been given to the American, Jesse reaches out with a hand in order to pull Stranger closer. His hand settles on the back of the Japanese’s neck, and their lips crashes together once more.

Lap cat, was it?

The bitter taste on Stranger’s tongue doesn’t bother Jesse in the slightest, and as the haze of lust begins to descend upon him again, he takes on a more assertive role. They end up switching places, with Stranger on his back and Jesse hovering over him, and he quickly removes the pesky trousers and underwear that still clings to Stranger’s hips.

Stranger looks perfectly content however, and Jesse thinks he looks really more of a cat than what he himself ever did. But despite the calm demeanour, he can tell that the smug Stranger isn’t completely unaffected. Jesse leans down and presses his lips to the smooth, warm skin on Stranger’s neck, his lips pulling into a small smirk as he feels the other tense up a little. 

Aha, so it was simply feigned grandeur then.

As Jesse trails his lips down Stranger’s chest, his hands explores his toned abdomen, feeling the prominent muscles occasionally twitch as Jesse nips on his skin. To know that Stranger wasn’t as unaffected as he pretended to be only fuelled Jesse’s own smugness and determination. By the end of this, he was going to make sure Stranger was nothing more than a whimpering, shivering mess.

It’s not until his fingers curls around a warm, throbbing shaft Stranger finally loses some of his composure. The green haired man hisses, his fingers twitching, and he looks oh so inviting and ready. Jesse probably would have gotten to business if something hadn’t distracted him.

Because look at that… the sonuvabitch was pierced.

Three piercings, six balls, forming a small ladder on the underside of his shaft.  _ Jesus Christ. _

Jesse had toyed with the idea of getting pierced himself, but had eventually decided against. It just wasn’t worth all the aftercare and having to be careful and so tender and sore. Looking down at Stranger though, he wonders if it’s not time to seriously consider it again.

He scoots down, his mind and eyes having pretty much zeroed in on the sight of the metal in the flesh, and if he ever had a hesitant thought, it more or less flew right out of the window. This was now something Jesse really wanted.

His tongue runs up the length, between the piercings, and he revels in the sound of hissing and gasping. A hand soon finds his hair, and while he he’s prepared for the push down as he wraps his lips around the weeping head, he’s somewhat confused when Stranger pulls him up. For a moment he fears he went too far or went too fast, but looking up at the Japanese man’s flushed face and hooded eyes, he knows that Stranger wants this as much as Jesse.

So why had he pulled Jesse away?

The silent question is answered seconds later, Stranger’s voice strained as if he really doesn’t want to say what’s on his mind. “My pocket. Go check my pocket.”

And while it’s obvious that neither of them wants Jesse to leave right now, he slowly pulls away once his hair is released. Stranger’s trousers lays discarded on the floor, and Jesse almost stumbles in his own shaky legs as he moves over to them. At this point he’s starting to get a feeling as to just what was in the pocket - and he pulls out a small bottle of lube and small square package without hesitation.

So Stranger had planned this, huh? Jesse can’t help but to smirk as he returns to the bed. Clearly the Japanese man was more eager than what he first had assumed - not that Jesse was complaining. At least not right now.

He doesn’t hesitate to open the cap of the lube once he has taken a seat between Stranger’s spread legs, only to look up as the other man pulls his legs up and moves to lay on his stomach rather than his back. He finds Jesse’s flat pillow and wraps his arms around it before resting his cheek on it. It allows him to peer at Jesse with one eye, and Jesse can see the upturn of his lips.

Though that’s not really what captures his attention. As it turns out, Stranger has the most curved behind on a man Jesse has ever seen. How was such a thing even possible? Lube discarded, Jesse instead brings his hands to Stranger’s cheeks and gives a squeeze - and is rewarded with a soft groan for his attention.

It’s a sound Jesse  _ really _ wants to hear again.

His fingers tightens in the warm, soft flesh and he pulls the cheeks apart, and he doesn’t miss Stranger’s light shiver as his pink pucker is exposed to air. It’s a damn fine sight. Jesse whistles softly to himself but doesn’t stall for too long before he releases Stranger’s cheeks and instead moves to find the lube again. By the time the fingers of his right hand is coated in peppermint scented lube, Stranger has arched his hips a little and is wriggling his rear playfully.

“You’re taking forever, lap cat,” Stranger smirks, but his voice is strained and trembling. Jesse rewards him with a not too hard slap on his left cheek, and is surprised as Stranger’s visible eye widens, followed by a soft gasp and a groan. It wasn’t quite the reaction he had anticipated but at least it made the Japanese shut his mouth for the time being.

“You like it rough, huh?” This time it’s Jesse’s time to smirk, and he leans over the smaller man, his left hand supporting himself on the bed next to Stranger’s side. Being rough in bed wasn’t really Jesse’s thing - he doesn’t enjoy hitting someone unless they piss him off, but a little playful slapping didn’t hurt anyone (assuming both parties are into it).

Jesse looms over Stranger, taking a smug pleasure in how the other man shivers and tenses slightly at his question. Just because he had discovered a kink didn’t mean Jesse was going to exploit it however. Instead, he brings a lube coated middle finger to Stranger’s entrance, and slowly slides it past the ring of muscle. The intrusion is easy and smooth, and Jesse brings his lips to Stranger’s neck and shoulder in order to kiss and lick at the skin there.

If the Japanese man had ever intended to answer his question, it seems to have gotten lost in the gasps and moans that sounds like a melody to Jesse.

“Better be quiet,” he taunts softly into Stranger’s ear as he slides his ring finger gently past the ring of muscle as well, intending to slowly stretch him. “The walls are thin and surely ya don’t wanna disturb m’neighbors?” Jesse purposely uses the same word Stranger had used on him not too long ago, and he emphasises his words by adding a single, small thrust of his fingers. The other man gasps again, his body tensing for a moment in surprise, before he groans something softly in japanese.

Jesse can’t really understand much but he’s not pushed away so he can only assume it wasn’t too bad. His fingers continues to move around, doing scissoring motions as well as small curling motions that soon has Stranger writhing slightly below him. This is a stark difference to the man that had forced his head back earlier and insisted that knowing his name wasn’t important.

Right now though, Jesse suspects he would be able to coax his name out of the other, especially as his fingers brushes against that one spot that makes Stranger whine and shiver. But it’s almost like knowing his name didn’t really matter anymore, and he’s rewarded by breathy, ragged moans and gasps as he continues to brush his fingers against Stranger’s prostate.

Once that third finger joins the other two, Stranger is whining his name over and over along with mewling japanese which Jesse can only assume is begging. It makes the American smile smugly as he lightly bites at Stranger’s shoulder, tasting the salty, warm skin with a pleased hum.

Even though hearing Stranger gasp and whine his name really strokes Jesse’s ego, his patience has come to an end. With a final nip on the skin just below the other man’s neck, Jesse pulls back and withdraws his hand from the warm heat. His fingers trembles slightly with excitement as he gets the condom and tears the package. The rubber is easily rolled over his shaft with practiced ease, more lube is added, and he once more leans over Stranger, his hands now on either side of his upper chest, as his tip gently prods the entrance.

Stranger’s breathing is laboured now and he turns his head to give Jesse an impatient look. Or, well, as impatient as he can give with swollen lips, flushed cheeks and glazed eyes.

Fuck, if that sight doesn’t go straight to Jesse.

He suspects that Stranger wants to say something clever and sarcastic, so before he’s given the opportunity to do so, Jesse silences him before he can open his mouth by slowly easing his tip past the stretched ring of muscle. It’s a little awkward without the use of his hands, but he makes it work - and if he didn’t have any self restraint, he probably would have bottomed out in one swift go.

The heat is maddeningly tempting, and Stranger’s sounds and groaned japanese has Jesse biting the tan shoulder in order to retain his patience.

Clearly it’s been  _ way  _ too long since Jesse last got laid.

Slowly, patiently, he bottoms out - and he almost wants to give himself a pat on the back with how he managed to stay cool despite Stranger’s wriggling and loud panting. For a moment they just stay locked like that, breathing raggedly, hearing the blood rush in their ears, before Stranger tells him to start moving. Jesse really doesn’t have to be asked twice.

His sole mission in this becomes to make the other come before him, and it’s not something he takes lightly. After having sat a decent pace, Jesse pulls back a little to get up onto his knees, and he uses his hands to lift Stranger’s lower body up to his knees. The other whines, now he couldn’t get that friction from the bed anymore, but doesn’t vocally protest. If he had intended to protest however, Jesse suspects it’s quickly forgotten (in a string of what he can only assume is Japanese swear words) as he has wrapped one of his hands around a pierced erection.

It’s hot to touch as well as slick, making it perfect for Jesse to time his hand movement in time with his thrusts. Everything becomes a little hazy after that - his ears filled by the sound of rushing blood, his body thrumming with pleasure, but he refuses to come undone before Stranger has had his fill. He does notice how the other man keeps bucking his hips however, chasing Jesse’s hand below him and his deeply buried shaft behind.

Jesse takes it as a permission to go faster.

Stranger takes him so well. The muscles are nice and loose now and eagerly welcomes Jesse’s shaft as he now more or less pounds into him. It speaks volumes of Stranger’s experience, and Jesse can’t help but to be slightly awed. It’s no wonder people were interested in having this man in their beds, especially not when he seemingly takes everything so easily. Jesse sure as hell wasn’t complaining, and he can only hope that Stranger isn’t left unsatisfied either in the end.

Warmth begins to pool low in his abdomen again and Jesse grits his teeth. Sweat is trailing down his temples and down his spine, and it feels like the temperature of the room has increased by twenty degrees. He’s panting loudly but not as loud as Stranger however, who is also making all kinds of obscene sounds now. A part of Jesse notes that he’s never been with such an expressive partner before, which is kind of interesting because Stranger isn’t particularly  _ loud _ just very vocal.

Still, he speeds up, taking pride in the lewd noise of his hips smacking against Stranger’s thighs and rear, as well as the wet sounds from the handjob. And just when he fears he’s going to come again, Stranger begins to plead in English.

“Please, please, please, please, oh god, don’t stop, please…!”

Jesse growls softly and angles himself, effectively hitting Stranger’s prostate repeatedly now, and he doesn’t stop even as he feels the other tense up with a low, strained groan. Moments later he becomes aware of warm, sticky strings hitting the back of his hand, and Jesse smirks smugly. He continues to move his hand quickly up and down Stranger’s erection however, effectively milking him for everything he’s worth, and doesn’t pull away until the other whines again.

By that point he simply chases his own relief, and now that he allows himself to reach the peak again, it takes him all but a moment. Jesse buries himself deep into Stranger, his eyes squeezing shut and his mouth partially open.

The condom catches everything he releases, and for a moment Jesse can’t help but to lean over Stranger’s still propped up rear. It takes him all but a minute before he pulls away and gets awkwardly out of bed in order to dispose of the condom. His legs feels like jell-o and his hand is sticky, and as much as he wants to go and shower, Jesse knows it’s not an option right now.

Instead he moves into the super tiny bathroom in order to wash himself, and he brings a damp cloth with him as he heads back out.

Stranger is laying flat out on his stomach now, arms and legs spread out - and Jesse doesn’t fail to notice the teeth marks on his shoulder. Oops. The Japanese man offers a content hum as Jesse cleans him up, and offers no resistance as he turns him around. The glint of piercings is enough for Jesse’s interest to spark again however, but at this point he’s too tired to do anything. He disposes of the cloth in the simple sink in the bathroom, and when he moves back to his bedroom he partially expects Stranger to be getting dressed.

As it was, he’s still laying on his back on the bed, but now he’s pulled the blanket up to his chest. It would seem Jesse was going to have to share his bed tonight. At this point, he honestly doesn’t care. Jesse climbs into bed and lays down on the free side - and isn’t all too surprised when he feels Stranger drape the blanket over the two of them before cuddling against him.

It feels really nice.

Both are too tired to say anything, and so they simply fall asleep without a word.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh gosh, I seriously considered just deleting everything and simply continue with my plan - but I've spent so many days writing this garbage chapter so you'll just have to take it for what it is ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ
> 
> As always, this chapter is unbeta'd etc etc


End file.
